stand by your order...

I am currently re-reading Richardson's masterful biography of William James. This from James on Emerson...

  "What gave a flavor so matchless to Emerson's individuality was, even more than his rich mental gifts, their singularly harmonious combination. Rarely has a man so accurately known the limits of his genius or so unfailingly kept with them. "Stand by your order," he used to say to youthful students; and perhaps the paramount impression one gets of his life is of his loyalty to his own personal type and mission. The type was that of what he liked to call a scholar, the perceiver of pure truth; and the mission was that of the reporter in worthy form of each perception. The day is good, he said, in which we have the most perceptions. There are times when the cawing of a crow, a weed, a snowflake, or a farmer planting in his field become symbols to the intellect of truths equal to those which the most majestic phenomena can open. Let me mind my own charge, then, walk alone, consult the sky, the field and forest, sedulously waiting every morning for the news concerning the structure of the universe which the good Spirit will give me.

        This was the first half of Emerson, but only half; for genius, as he said, is insatiate for expression, and truth has to be clad in the right verbal garment. The form of the garment was so vital with Emerson that it is impossible to separate it from the matter. They form a chemical combination — thoughts which would be trivially expressed otherwise, are important through the nouns and verbs to which he married them. The style is the man, and if we must define him in one word, we have to call him Artist. He was an artist whose medium was verbal and who wrought in spiritual material."

Blessings

perhaps they are...

Still studying Emerson's "Experience." These are perhaps my favorite lines in all literature...

"Let us treat the men and women well: treat them as if they were real: perhaps they are."

Blessings

life...is sturdy

Preparing for adult learning session on Emerson's great-almost painfully great-
essay "Experience." What happens when the world catches up and the inspiration gets a little dimmer? Some jewels that I have posted before...

"Life is not intellectual or critical, but Sturdy. It's chief good is for well mixed people who can enjoy what they find, without question.

To fill the hour,-that is happiness; to fill the hour and leave no crevice for a repentance or an approval.

To finish the moment, to find the journey's end in every step of the road, to live the greatest number of good hours, is wisdom."

blessings

be still and know...

Ephraim Peabody was born on this day in 1807(See here for more.) This on prayer from Rev. Peabody...

"I return now to the question, What is the best course for me to take in endeavoring to determine, in any doubtful case, what is my duty ? And, borne out by the laws of man's nature and the declarations of revelation, I reply in the words of the text, for they suggest the whole answer, " Be still, and know that I am God!" In many things it is proper to ask merely what is pleasant, what will gratify the taste,' what will be useful. But in deciding a question of duty, the appeal is made to what is highest and best in a man, and the answer must come thence, or it will only cheat and lead astray. The primary necessity is to separate one's self from the urgencies of the passions. We have come to a question which no crowd can settle by vote or resolution. And what is more, no other human beings, much as they may help us, can settle it for us. I would summon up the best counsellors. I would be out of the sound of human voices. Then is the time for retirement. Be still, and know only that with you is God. One hour in these summer fields alone, in the silence of nature, with a heart that looks in prayer to Him who is above the open heavens, is worth more in determining a question of duty, than ages of rhetoric and libraries of logic. An hour in this place, before the memorials of Christ, with the heart seeking God's guidance, has in it more wisdom than all the oracles philosophy ever uttered. Evil suggestions fade away from the consciousness of the Divine presence. The mind acts in an unembarrassed sphere; it is placed in a right position, and is open to the unbewildered light of truth. The intellect will seek truth most faithfully when the heart seeks God most truly. Prayer does not take the place of reasoning, but the reason finds guidance and protection in prayer. I do not say that even under these circumstances one will always judge aright; but he will judge rightly for himself. He has done the best he can, and will never repent of it. In this reverential and prayerful seeking for right, one is not likely to go astray ; and such a spirit will correct its own errors. The prompting of such an hour it is generally wise for one to follow, and no man ever yet regretted that he was governed in his acts by the spirit of such an hour. In seeking what is right, when you have used other means, have some religious retirement of mind. With a prayerful heart, be still, and alone, conscious that God is With you."

blessings

the soul's sphere...

This from William Phillips Tilden's "Leaflet for Lent" For today. May everyone have a week of light and love...

"GOD help us to let shine the light that His own hand, hath kindled; to take away the bushel of our own placing and to put our light on the candlestick God made for it, that it may give light to all that are in the house. The virtue of the light depends upon its power of illumination. Good works are themselves light. Doing comes closer than having. What one has he may lose; but what one does is never lost. No star-lighted heaven speaks to the heart like a heaven-lighted soul, — a soul filled with the echoes of the spirit's voice; a human star, touched with intelligence, warmed with love, knowing the light and love that kindled both. Each soul seems to have a sphere like the atmosphere around the earth, through which there is an outgoing on mystic threads of communication whereby its own light is imparted. There is something in this world to live for that is not riches; something that no flood-tide of prosperity can ever bring, or ebb-tide of adversity take away; something we carry with us wherever we go. It is what we are, our Best. God make that a light to some life!"

Come unto Me...

This prayer from Rufus Ellis, often featured on these pages...

"Almighty and Ever-loving God, Thou livest though Thy children die, and Thou art ever near to uphold and comfort. Blessed be Thy Name for the faith which is by Christ and that in Him Thou hast overcome the bitterness of sorrow and the sharpness of death, and opened the Kingdom of Heaven to all believing hearts. May Thy children of this household be near to Thee as Thou art near to them. Let this sorrow be unto them as Thy fatherly discipline, and may they hear Thee saying unto them as by the lips of the Christ, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." They would confess the wisdom of Thy decree. For all that hath been gracious and merciful they would devoutly thank Thee, and compassed about by the mystery of our life they would say, "Thy will be done." Be Thou the Strength of the weak, the Companion of the lonely, the Author and Finisher of an immortal life. Go with those who shall bear forth their dead to be gathered to kindred dust. Let the face of the risen and glorified shine down through the darkness, and refresh our spirits evermore with the light of Thy Countenance. We pray in His Name who died for our sakes, beseeching Thee to forgive our great and manifold transgressions through Him who ever liveth to make intercession for us. Amen."

the life of heaven...

This morning, "Seasons of Prayer" by Henry Ware Jr. I found this version (online) in the book "THE DISTRICT SCHOOL READER; EXERCISES IN READING AND SPEAKING; DESIGNED FOR THE HIGHEST CLASS IN PUBLIC AND PRIVATE SCHOOLS." (1845)

"To prayer! to prayer ! — for the morning breaks,
And Earth in her Maker's smile awakes.
His light is on all, below and above —
The light of gladness, and life, and love.
O, then, on the breath of this early air,
Send upward the incense of grateful prayer.

To prayer! — for the glorious sun is gone,
And the gathering darkness of night comes on.
Like a curtain from God's kind hand it flows,
To shade the couch where his children repose.
Then kneel, while the watching stars are bright,
And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night.

To prayer! — for the day that God has blessed
Comes tranquilly on with its welcome rest.
It speaks of creation's early bloom ;
It speaks of the Prince who burst the tomb.
Then summon the spirit's exalted powers,
And devote to Heaven the hallowed hours.

There are smiles and tears in the mother's eyes,
For her new-born infant beside her lies.
O, hour of bliss, when the heart o'erflows
With rapture a mother only knows!
Let it gush forth in words of fervent prayer;
Let it swell up to Heaven for her precious care.

There are smiles and tears in that gathering band,
Where the heart is pledged with the trembling hand.
What trying thoughts in her bosom swell,
As the bride bids parents and home farewell!
Kneel down by the side of the tearful fair,
And strengthen the perilous hour with prayer.

Kneel down by the dying sinner's side,
And pray for his soul through Him who died.
Large drops of anguish are thick on his brow :
O, what are earth and its pleasures now ?
And what shall assuage his dark despair,
But the penitent cry of humble prayer ?

Kneel down at the couch of departing faith,
And hear the last words the believer saith.
He has bidden adieu to his earthly friends;
There is peace in his eye, that upward bends ;
There is peace in his calm, confiding air;
For his last thoughts are God's, his last words prayer.

The voice of prayer at the sable bier! —
A voice to sustain, to soothe, and to cheer.
It commends the spirit to God who gave;
It lifts the thoughts from the cold, dark grave;
It points to the glory where He shall reign,
Who whispered, " Thy brother shall rise again."

The voice of prayer in the world of bliss! —
But gladder, purer, than rose from this.
The ransomed shout to their glorious King,
Where no sorrow shades the soul as they sing;
But a sinless and joyous song they raise;
And their voice of prayer is eternal praise.

Awake! awake ! and gird up thy strength
To join that holy band at length.
To Him, who unceasing love displays,
Whom the powers of nature unceasingly praise,
To Him thy heart and thy hours be given;
For a life of prayer is the life of heaven."

Blessings